


Paint my words

by nunie_lullaby



Series: Paint my words [1]
Category: Highlight | Beast (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Artist Min Yoongi | Suga, Fluff, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope & Min Yoongi | Suga Are Best Friends, Kim Taehyung | V & Park Jimin Are Best Friends, M/M, Minor Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin, Minor Kim Namjoon | Rap Monster/Kim Seokjin | Jin, Writer Kim Taehyung | V, Yong Junhyung/Yoon Doojoon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 21:53:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13726725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nunie_lullaby/pseuds/nunie_lullaby
Summary: A good story deserves the best illustrations - or how Taehyung and Yoongi met unexpectedly.





	Paint my words

**Author's Note:**

> this is a story I've been working on for the past two weeks. A slightly different style from me, with a dash of multi-fandom and maybe a little humor? Idk. I might transform this into a series if I ever get the urge to write a follow-up piece for it someday.  
> sorry for the lame summary...

Taehyung was washing the windows of the bakery of his brother, pink headband pushing back his hair and neon blue gloves covering his hands when the chime above the door rang, announcing a customer. He called out his greetings as he jumped off the ladder he was perched on, turning only to see the man he had come to pin over in the three months he started working at the bakery. Quickly taking his gloves off, he ran to the counter to tend to his favorite customer. 

“What will it be today?”

The young man, an art student from what Taehyung managed to understand from all the little details he had collected along his visits, shrugged. He looked tired, cheeks hollow and dark circles more pronounced than usual, shoulders slumped under an invisible weight. His body was swallowed by a herringbone coat, a large scarf masking half of his face.

“Do you still have some curry puff?”

It was far into the afternoon and the usual salty pastries were all gone, saved from the ones Taehyung would keep for his dinner. He wanted to refuse, to ignore the small, round pies he stored in the backroom, but the student looked so forlorn, Taehyung did not have the heart to ignore his request.

“Go take a seat, I will see what I can do.”

The man nodded, slumping on the nearest chair and resting his head in the crook of his arms. The cashier rushed past Seokjin who was working on a new recipe to get the pastries. He reheated them under the questioning eyes of his brother, fixing some salad in a plate while waiting for the puffs to be ready.

“Tae, what are you doing?”

“He is here. I’m just reheating some curry pastries.”

Seokjin put down his pen, turning to face his young brother, leaning against the counter on one hip. He was clearly amused by the other’s antics, seeing with how much enthusiasm he was preparing a whole meal for the man he was pinning over.

“Let me guess. Small, broody man with hair color changing with every season? You wouldn’t sacrifice your dinner for anyone else.”

Taehyung huffed in frustration, glaring at his brother for good measure before balancing the tray on one hand and pushing the door separating the kitchen from the shop. If he was honest with himself, the previous statement was true. Even for Jimin, his best friend in the whole wide world, he would not let go of his dinner or any other sort of food for that matter.

He made his way to the table where the art student was sitting, clearing his throat when he was a couple of feet away to give him time to wake up from his light slumber. He placed the tray on the table while the man rubbed at his cat-like shaped eyes, a yawn escaping his lips before he could stop it.

Taehyung chuckled, gesturing to the food and coffee sitting in front of the student.

“Help yourself. You look like you need this.”

The man mumbled a thank you before digging into the food without a moment of hesitation. It made the young cashier happy. If anything, watching someone devouring the food he carefully prepared or that Seokjin baked was his favorite thing – after writing and karaoke.

“Taehyung.”

The student looked up, mid-chew, an eyebrow raised in question. Taehyung realized that it was the weirdest way to introduce himself, from all the scenarios he had in mind, this one was not the one he would have chosen.

“Well, you come over almost every day. I figured we could-”

“Yoongi!”

He was interrupted by a man, a couple of years older than them from what he could guess, who entered the shop like a storm. An air of assertiveness surrounded him as he made his way to the boy – the student, Yoongi – looking much younger now that the stranger joined them.

“I told you I would pick you up.”

The man grumbled, taking a seat beside the art student before looking up at Taehyung, chuckling.

“Nice headband.”

Taehyung quickly took it away, flustered. He would have launched onto one of his embarrassing monologues if not for the remark of their quiet companion.

“Hyung, leave the kid alone. And I was hungry. Figured you’d know where I was.”

The older man sighed, mumbling about how it was fortunate his young brother was a man of habit because he would have really panicked if not. Taehyung noticed then the slight resemblances between the two men – round cheeks, sharp eyes softened by golden brown irises, a barely-there smile illuminating their faces.

Quickly recovering from his embarrassment, he took the elder’s order and made quick work of it. Then, he gathered his ladder and bucket to put them in the storage room – the cleaning would have to wait another time. He settled back behind the counter and took his notebook, figuring that he could work on his new story while the customers finished eating.

Later that night, Taehyung was sitting at his desk reviewing his latest text before sending it to the editor of the magazine he was working for, huffing frustratingly. The drawings the illustrator they attached to him provided were horrible. They did not reflect his idea of the story at all. He did not want to see his newest work accompanied by such horrific illustrations. He needed to find someone else.

“What with the angry pout, Tae?”

The young man looked at his roommate – his best friend – and let out a growl, a mix of anger and high-level frustration. Jimin put his hands on his shoulders and started massaging him, trying to help Taehyung to get rid of his stress.

“Look at these illustrations. They’re just… so bad! I should have never accepted to add illustrations to my stories.”

Jimin leaned over the shoulder of his friend to peer at the drawings and he had to admit he could not see the link between the story he read some time ago and the illustrations. They were so childish compared to the mature theme of the serial novel.

“You should ask them to publish this first installment without any illustrations. It will give you time to find a better artist. You are their writer prodigy, they won’t refuse anything to you.”

Taehyung hummed. He knew his friend was right. When he had first sent his story to the magazine for their annual writing contest, never in his wildest dreams would he have thought he would get a phone call from the editor asking him if he could write another original story. They would serialize it and depending on its success, they would sign him for another story.

It had been two years ago, Taehyung freshly out of high school, head full of dreams. Despite the advices from his family, he choose not to go to university but registered for a couple of online classes. It gave him plenty of time to write and the income brought by the monthly publication allowed him to share an apartment with Jimin and his soon-to-be boyfriend, Jungkook.

The series did so well, Taehyung earned a hefty bonus which allowed him to live comfortably. Still, boredom arose, and he begged his brother to let him work part-time at the bakery. He could have taken more online classes or even registered at university, but he feared he would be overwhelmed in doing so. Plus, he liked his quiet life way too much to allow any stress in it. That was until those fated drawings.

“You’re right. I’ll send them an email and hopefully, by next month, I’ll have found someone suitable for the task.”

“That’s my boy.”

Jimin chuckled, patting his head good naturedly before skipping out of the room at the sound of his boyfriend’s voice, announcing his return and a pizza-slash-movie night to start.

 

*

 

Yoongi leafed through the magazine his brother brought back home, looking for some inspiration. He wanted to draw for himself and not for the many assignments piling up at the corner of his desk – most of them already finished, only needed some retouching here and there. He was about to give up and just go for a walk when he found a text – the first part of a serial novel – from which he recognized the name of the author. He had enjoyed his previous story thus his curiosity was picked. Curling up on the couch he started reading right away, surprised to find in these words roots from a famous Korean tale, on a much darker side.

After the last word, he ran to his room and put the magazine on his desk, grabbing his material to sketch some raw ideas while re-reading the text. Images kept pouring in his mind, he had to get them down on paper before they eluded him.

He cursed when the doorbell interrupted him. Hearing the sound of the shower, he knew he had to get the door – it could not be a worst moment. Reluctantly pulling away from his desk, he padded to the entryway and opened the door to a tall man with the features of a model, a pack of beer and bags of take-away food in hands.

“Hyung, the boyfriend is here.”

Yoongi yelled just as the door of the bathroom opened, already making his way back to his bedroom. He made sure to close the door with a slam so the two guys would know not to disturb him. He still had the time to hear Doojoon complaining about his lack of respect to his brother.

Mere seconds later, Junhyung peeked into his room, reproaches dying as soon as he saw the state his young brother was in. The art student had ink smeared on his cheeks and forehead, paint smudges on the tip of his fingers and a manic look in his eyes. Inspiration struck him.

“There will be food in the fridge. Don’t forget to eat.”

Yoongi barely acknowledged him, dipping the point of his brush in water before adding red pigments and applying the color on paper. He was in his own world where characters and landscapes occupied all his senses. Sometimes he swore he heard them talking to him, whispering encouragements or giving him advices. During those times, nothing else mattered to him – only his art.

When he eventually emerged from his state, it was dark outside, shadows crawling on every surface of his bedroom. He rubbed at his eyes tiredly and observed his work, satisfied with the outcome. He took a picture of it with his phone, arranging the few illustrations in an organized mess before uploading the photo on his social account.

_“Another thought-provoking story with a dark twist. Inspiration inspiration.”_

He closed his phone and shuffled sleepily to the kitchen, remembering the promise of food to fill his protesting stomach. The apartment was dark, Junhyung already in his room mostly with his boyfriend, the silence stretching around him. Yoongi loved those quiet hours where everything was still. It allowed him to relax, to be fully himself.

He found a box of chicken caesar salad and a chocolate éclair from his favorite bakery. He put everything on a tray and brought it back to his room, all trace of sleepiness erased from his body. He settled on his bed, bringing his laptop closer and started a movie, knowing it would be a long time before he eventually fell asleep.

When he woke up, it was to a load of private messages on his social account. He blinked, thinking he was dreaming, even brought his phone to his brother to make sure he was not imagining things. The author of the serial novel – his favorite author, not that he would admit it out loud – contacted him about the raw illustrations he made the previous night.

“Someone finally recognized your talent. I told you patience would pay off, Yoon. You should at least thank him for the compliments.”

Yoongi nodded, still in a daze. He needed a shower, a coffee, fresh clothes before making any decisions. He was not sure he was ready to face the implications of having been contacted – and even followed – by an author he admired. If he had ever dreamt of it, it would have been a dream come true. He really needed that shower.

_Hoseok, I need your help._

It took his friend half an hour to barge into the apartment – how did the guy figure out the code every time they changed it was still a mystery to him. At least, he brought the biggest cup of coffee from the café at the corner of the street with a bag of fresh pastries.

“So, what’s the emergency?”

Hoseok asked, giving Yoongi his tumbler which the student latched on. He took a seat on the arm of the couch, observing his agitated friend closely. He was used to the various moods of the art student, but never did he see him this fidgety before. There was a new light in his eyes too, a mix of excitement and fear, an odd contrast for a man who always seemed so in control of his feelings.

Yoongi sighed, slumping down on the carpet, sitting Indian style. He took his phone and held it out to his companion, waiting for him to look at his feed.

“Saw the new art I posted last night?”

“Yeah, it’s really dope.” Hoseok exclaimed, “What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing. Everything. Read the comments… oh, and the private messages too.”

Hoseok looked down at his best friend, curiosity picked by his obvious flustered state. He quickly skimmed through the comments before reading the messages. It took him only seconds to understand what was happening.

“Wait, is this… hum, kimTea, the writer you’ve been raving about? The one with the serialized story?”

Yoongi nodded, making grabby hands for the bag of sugary sweetness currently in Hoseok’s possession. Taking a cream puff from the paper bag, he stuffed his face with a mouthful of pastry and mumbled around it.

“What do I answer?”

Hoseok chuckled, taking a seat at his friend’s side. “You accept his offer obviously, you dummy.”

The art student glared at him before pouting. Of course, he should accept to talk about a possible collaboration. This was unhoped for, a once-in-a-lifetime proposition. He would be an idiot for locking that door without even opening it first.

His teachers might not like his art for what it was, but this stranger – this author – saw something in it which appealed to him. If anything, he should ask him what it was. Taking his phone, he answered before he could change his mind.

Who new what the future would bring him?

 

*

 

“Oh my god, guys, he answered.”

Taehyung jumped on the battered sofa – which had seen too many jumps in its short life – while waving his phone excitedly. He was too happy to contain his excitement, and no one could blame him. It had been almost a month he was looking for an illustrator and he may have finally found it. Jungkook joined him on his makeshift trampoline while Jimin watched them for the doorframe of the kitchen, with an amused smile on his lips.

“I take it as he accepted to talk with you.”

Taehyung nodded, boxy smile in place. Now, all he had to do was chatting with the man and hopefully found common grounds for a real-life meeting – but he was getting ahead of himself. First, he needed to introduce himself more properly than the previous night where he was just too excited and maybe a little drunk – and as much as the anonymity behind his social media account allowed him to.

They texted back and forth the whole morning until he had to work at the bakery. Nothing could damage his good mood – not the awful weather, not the haughty customers, not even the coffee machine breaking down on him. If anything, this breakage was a blessing in disguise.

Taehyung was trying desperately to fix it when the chime rang, announcing the arrival of none other than Yoongi. Wiping his sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, he offered a smile to the student completed with an apology for being unable to get him his usual coffee.

“Can I check it? Maybe I can fix it.”

“Really? That would be great. I know it’s an old coffeemaker but Seokjin-hyung loves it too much to get rid of it.”

Yoongi chuckled – almost silently – as he made his way behind the counter at Taehyung’s invitation, dropping his bag in a corner before looking at the machine with a frown. The young cashier observed him closely, discovering a new facet of his personality. It always fascinated him to see how people could change in a mere second when they got to do what they liked – or disliked.

“I have a friend who destroys everything he touches; I got to learn how to fix the most random things. Do you have a screwdriver? And maybe a bucket too, this might get pretty dirty here.”

Taehyung left as fast as he could and came back a moment later with the objects asked. Yoongi had already moved the coffeemaker away from the wall it was leaning on and, with his sleeves rolled up his arms, was trying to find why it would not let any water filter.

“Thanks.”

Customers trickled in sparingly, allowing the two boys to talk in between two orders. It was a welcome change from the usual stillness of his afternoon shifts for Taehyung. He would not mind having more of those. It would make time pass faster but Seokjin might not agree with him on this – even if Taehyung loved working at the bakery and took good care of the customers, Yoongi would be too much of a distraction.

Thinking of his brother, the tall man – and handsome baker – stepped in, arms full with paper bags bursting with fruits from the nearest market. Seokjin bought all of the fruits he needed for his recipes from the same seller at the corner of the street – an old woman, whose age was a mystery, sitting under a battered red parasol every afternoon, be it cold or sweltering weather.

Taehyung rushed to help him, relieving his brother from some of the heavy packages, as they passed the counter to enter the kitchen. Seokjin paused when he noticed Yoongi, sending a glare his brother’s way.

“Why is a customer doing, behind the counter, fixing our coffeemaker, Kim Taehyung?”

The young writer swallowed, chuckling shamefully. He knew his brother would not approve of this, but before he could say anything, Yoongi walked to Seokjin and bowed in greetings.

“I’m sorry, I would shake your hand but mine are quite dirty and yours busy.”

The art student said, “I offered my help, don’t be mad at Taehyung. By the way,” He then turned to Taehyung with a smile, “It’s fixed.”

“You’re a life savior!” The young man exclaimed, quickly disposing of the bags impeding his arms before rushing to the old coffeemaker to try it on. If he could thank Yoongi, it would be with the tastiest coffee he ever made.

“Thank you, Yoongi. Let me treat you with some fresh-baked pastries. You saved us from a hefty bill.”

Seokjin shut down any protest coming from the student with a glare, not taking ‘no’ for an answer. This made Taehyung laughed because everyone who had that look directed their way learned not to never earn it, ever again – this was Seokjin’s power.

 

*

 

It has been a week since Yoongi had been contacted by the mysterious author going by the penname Kim T. A week where he got to read his latest installment for the story he was working on and draw a lot of illustrations. A week where he learned little details from the personal life of the writer, little by little – he was younger than him but did not go to university, he worked part-time for his brother, he loved photography and karaoke, his favorite color was blue but not any blue, cobalt blue, he was sharing an apartment with two friends, a gamer slash educational student and his best friend, a student with no major yet.

Now, they were talking about meeting, face-to-face because it made more sense if they were about to work together for a long time. To his dismay, the young writer refused to reveal his identity before they met. Yoongi hated the unknown, always loved to plan – sometimes, over plan – every bit of his life. It gave him the illusion of control, if anything it grounded him. He loathed not knowing what to expect – quite the irony with his field of interest – but it looked like he did not have a choice in the matter regarding his upcoming meeting.

He was surprised to see that the man wanted to talk around a coffee at his favorite bakery. What were the odds they both loved the same place? At least, it settled his nerves a little bit. They agreed on a date a couple of days away – date that the art student was quick to write on his calendar, circling it with red felt-tip pen.

“What’s special with this date?”

Namjoon asked him when they met that night for their usual movie night, which often turned into a makeshift debate café – the perks of having a friend studying philosophy, and astronomy on the side. Hoseok had yet to arrive, so it was only the two of them, sitting on the floor in the middle of the living-room, surrounded by a few DVD cases and even more take-away boxes.

“I’m meeting this author I’m drawing for.”

“Ah, the infamous one. Nervous?”

Yoongi shrugged, playing with some lint from the carpet. He was, not that he would say it out loud, but whether he acknowledged it or not would not make a difference: Namjoon could read him like an open book.

“You need to believe more in yourself, hyung. Your drawings already blew his mind, nothing can go wrong from there.”

The young student sighed, lying down on the floor. He stared at the ceiling, chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully before glancing at his friend. There was something different in his demeanor, almost like he was burning to say something but stopped himself from doing so. It made him wonder what could have happened to him – surely something good.

“Spill it.”

Namjoon jumped, surprised that he had been found out. Yoongi was too great an observer for his own good.

“I met someone. It’s been a couple of months now. Name’s Seokjin. I thought he could join us on one of our nights, so Hoseok and you could meet him.”

Yoongi sat up quickly, almost giving himself whiplash as he turned to face his friend properly. The coincidence was too strange to be missed. He had to make sure the Seokjin he thought about was the same one Namjoon was talking about.

“Seokjin, as in Seokjin from the bakery a few blocks away?”

“You know him?”

The art student chuckled softly, shaking his head lightly because, as the saying went, the world was definitely a small place after all.

“Yeah… I’ve been stopping by almost every day after classes let out. I like their coffee.”

Namjoon frowned, suspicious. There was something extremely wrong in what Yoongi just said.

“But you hate sweets.”

“Theirs are good. Blame Hoseok for this new addiction of mine.”

 

*

 

It was finally THE day Taehyung had been waiting for. He was going to meet the artist behind the wonderful illustrations for his story – a man called Suga. It had been his idea not to give any real name before they got to sit face to face but now he regretted it. He would have loved to know who was hiding behind such an alias beforehand, maybe it would have made him less jittery.

Checking his appearance for the millionth time since he sat in a corner of the bakery – that same corner he begged Seokjin to transform into a cozy sitting area, promising it would bring even more customers to the bakery – he failed to notice the entry of a person he knew all too well.

“Hum, Taehyung?”

He almost let his phone fall at the sound of the gravelly voice. Looking up, he gasped at the presence of none other than Yoongi, the student wearing the red scarf they agreed on being their way of recognizing each other – well, it was supposed to be the token of recognition between him and the illustrator.

“You? Are you Suga?”

Yoongi brought a hand behind his nape, rubbing his neck in a show of uneasiness before bringing his hand to his forehead to tug at some loose strands from his fringe, his hair a light minty color. The gesture was endearing. It made Taehyung want to hug the man to ease him from all the awkwardness of the moment. 

“Well, hi.”

The art student breathed, taking a seat in front of the young writer just as Seokjin walked to their table, laughing at the strangeness of the situation. Who would have thought that these two men who were obviously pinning for each other were the same person they would not stop talking about to whoever would listen?

“Here, have some coffee and strawberry pie. I will let you talk, I bet you have a lot of things to talk about.”

They had indeed eon of things to talk about. First was how they had been able to miss who they really were when they talked unknowingly about themselves to each other. Taehyung remembered clearly talking about finding a wonderful artist to Yoongi, not that he told him exactly for what he found him. And Yoongi told him once that finally someone – his favorite writer – had recognized his talent.

He could not stop himself – he laughed. This situation was too absurd. Soon, Yoongi joined him in a more subdued way. He was shyly covering his mouth with his hand, eyes sparkling mischievously above his finger. It was an image Taehyung wanted to commit to memory.

“Hi, I’m kimTea alias Kim Taehyung, writer of ‘A world of shadows’.”

The young cashier smiled after a moment, extending his hand to Yoongi. The art student shook it, offering him a smile of his own.

“Min Yoongi aka Suga.”

 

*

 

“Yoongi, your friends are here.”

Junhyung called out from the entryway as he let Namjoon and Seokjin in, the two guys followed by a tall boy with a boxy smile he’d never met before. He sighed when he did not get any answer, stomping to the bedroom of his young brother with menacing words of throwing a bucket of iced cold water if he fell back asleep yet again.

He was surprised to find him engross into painting, body folded over his desk as he moved his brushes at a fast pace, almost like in a trance. By experience, Junhyung knew he should not disturb him when he was in such a state but usually, they did not have any guests.

Stepping carefully closer to his brother, he cleared his throat before placing a hand on the desk in Yoongi’s range of vision. The boy – he would always be a baby in Junhyung’s eyes – did not stop. He barely acknowledged his presence with a grunt of annoyance.

“Yoon, your friends are here.”

The student looked up, blinking like an owl, the haze slowly clearing from his eyes. He brought a hand to his forehead to push the hair falling into his eyes away but Junhyung was quick to do it for him. He would have ended up with a large smear of purple pigments on his skin if not.

“But it’s Monday?”

Junhyung shook his head, not surprised that his brother had forgotten what day it was. When he was on holidays, without a proper schedule in place, days and nights would blend and without Junhyung, he would be lost.

“Wednesday, Yoon. Go take a shower, I’ll tell them you’ll be ready in ten, okay?”

Yoongi nodded, reluctantly pushing away from his desk to make his way to the bathroom. Junhyung picked some clothes for him which he put beside the sink for Yoongi to find when he was done with his shower before walking to the living room.

“He forgot movie night was today.” He announced to the boys with an apologetic smile, “Namjoon, let him know I’ll be at Doojoon’s if he needs anything. Kitchen is all yours as long as _you_ aren’t the one cooking, there’s beers in the fridge, mango juice for Yoon. Well, you know the drill. Have fun.”

With that, Junhyung left the apartment, door slightly ajar for Hoseok who – by the sounds coming from the stairs – was running his way out. The guy was too hyper for his own good.

“Yoongi doesn’t drink?”

Namjoon shook his head while he helped Seokjin unpack the food he brought with him. Tonight, was going to be a special movie night. His boyfriend said he was cooking for all of them, arguing that take-away food was not proper food. In all honesty, Namjoon did not mind the change in their routine because in the months he got to date the man, he learned that his cooking was to die for.

“No, he only drinks on New Year’s Eve because we spend it by the sea and he says the sea air helps him to keep a clear head.”

Taehyung hummed, nodding in understanding, just as Hoseok made his appearance in the apartment with a loud call for Yoongi. The night promised to be one of fun, of loud talks and maybe not so much movie. Taehyung checked his phone for a message from his friends, the two boyfriends late after being stuck in traffic at the other side of the city.

At first, it was supposed to be only Yoongi and him to spend the evening together. They found common interest in a lot of subjects, and most importantly in old movies, thus the offer from the art student to watch a couple of them together. When Seokjin caught wind of their project, he asked if he could join which Yoongi had been unable to refuse. Of course, Namjoon tagged along, being his boyfriend. Hoseok complained about being left off – drama-queen like. It resulted in Yoongi settling for inviting everyone over to stop any more complaint.

The young writer was not stressed about the whole ordeal but he felt that Yoongi was not completely at ease to be around that many people. The man gave the image of liking a calm, lonely environment which was a stark contrast with the exuberant personality of his best friend. The art student was a man of contradictions in the end.

“Hoseok!”

A roar came from the direction of what he assumed was the bathroom as laughter peeled from a dark corridor, Hoseok running away from a fuming boy, hair dripping wet. Despite eyes that could kill, Yoongi looked adorable in his large, fluffy sweater with sleeves too big it transformed his hands into paws, a simple pair of jeans and Kumamon branded socks.

“Seriously, you couldn’t wait five more minutes?”

Hoseok shrugged, offering a bright smile. Any apology was cut short by the doorbell, Yoongi walking to the entryway still with his murderous look in place. Exclamations of surprise soon followed – Yoongi and Jimin knowing each other already without being aware of their common friend.

“Jimin did some modeling for one of my classes.” Yoongi explained when Taehyung asked how they met, “Nude modeling.”

“Hey, that was good money.”

Jimin shrugged, not ashamed about it. As laughter erupted from the group, the awkwardness between the boys disappeared. Moments later, they separated in two groups – Seokjin and Yoongi cooking while the rest tried to decide on which movie to watch first.

The evening was well-advanced when Taehyung eventually had the opportunity to be alone with Yoongi. In the relative quietness of the kitchen, he watched the illustrator preparing coffee for their crew of friends – the action almost like a science experience. He wanted to help but was not sure how so he settled for sitting on top of the counter, observing him in silence.

“How do you like it?”

Yoongi mumbled, lisp evident in his speech as tiredness settled in his bones. Taehyung blinked, so far gone into his thoughts that he missed the meaning behind the words.

“Huh?”

Yoongi chuckled softly, glancing at the writer above his shoulder.

“Your coffee, how do you like it?”

“Oh.” Taehyung breathed, taken aback by the fondness in the eyes of the student, “Milk, a spoon of honey if you have.”

Yoongi nodded, reaching for a pot of bee sugar on a shelf a little too high for himself. He had to get on the tip of his toes to catch it, which left him huffing in annoyance after his old brother. Taehyung could not help but laugh at that.

“I thought of taking you on a coffee date later this week but you’re making me rethink my decision.”

The artist grumbled, avoiding looking at his companion but failing to hide completely the blush which colored his cheeks. Taehyung gaped at him, jumping down from where he was sitting to get a hold on the shoulder of the student, forcing him to face him to make sure he had not mistaken those words.

“A coffee date? Hyung, you want to take me on a coffee _date_?”

Yoongi nodded, still avoiding his gaze. It was unknown territories for him to be so straightforward in his advances but Taehyung did not let him doubt his actions. With a quick peck on his cheek – so fast Yoongi wondered if it really happened – the boy let him know that he was up for it.

“Text me when you’re free.”

He grinned before disappearing into the living room in a whirlwind of happiness. Yoongi smiled after him, taking some times in the kitchen to settle his nerves before joining his friends. If anyone noticed the two of them sitting closer than before, no one mentioned it.


End file.
